I stepped on the scales this morning, and to my horror, saw numbers I had never seen before between my toes. And while ever tightening waistbands and unzippable zippers have subtly suggested my love handles were becoming too much to handle, I was unprepared to see in very real numeric proof the score of pounds at the root of the problem. This "heav-alation" presented a problem that must be tackled (before it makes it to the buffet line), and so I've drafted a few action steps:* Find exercise options that don't sound repulsive
* Always (always, always) take the stairs - this includes at the 9th-floor Atlanta office
* Tell yourself that chocolate contains carcinogens
* Consider buying one of those elastic expanders that pregnant women wear on their "normal pants"
* Start a love affair with green leafy vegetables
* Sweat more from being active than, well, from just living in the South
* Get quotes for liposuction (Discard this idea because I can't be magically skinny AND have money for a house.)
* Walk to work - this includes the 9th floor Atlanta office
* Bring mumus back in style
* Buy stock in Spanx
* Go ahead and replace Facebook profile picture with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man
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